Drink Deep From Despair
by A'isha Ishtar
Summary: She found him painfully fascinating. After all, when you're new in town, you make friends with anybody you can. She makes some mistakes along the way, but he doesn't care. After all, when you've got scissors for hands, you take what you can get. Edward/OC
1. Chapter 1

19-year-old Harper Carruthers struggled as she carried her two suitcases up the impossibly uneven steps. Her chest heaved as she swore under her breath, cursing her parents for sending her to this hell. Suburbia! For God's almighty sake, _Suburbia_! Why here? She hated it already! Did her parents think she'd love the place? She had to carry her bags, which her parents had made sure she'd packed as full as possible, almost two miles in _high heels_. "Great," she mumbled, finally reaching the door. She dug in her shorts pocket for the key to her new house. "I think I broke a freaking heel. Damn it, I hate this place!" She felt tears threatening, even.

She sighed when she couldn't find the stupid key. Where could she have put it? She swore she'd placed it directly in her right back pocket for safe-keeping. "Where the fudge else could I have _possibly_ stuck it?" She fished around deeper, groaning. "_This is just great_! _Fudging GREAT_!" She had just turned around to go stalking back down the path looking for the key, when she noticed a small glittering object on the sandy ground. Upon closer inspection, she revealed it to be her key, the ticket to get into her new home. "Beautiful. Simply freaking _beautiful_. Cutest thing I've ever seen, really." She bent down and scooped it up, dusting it off. Wondering how she'd managed to drop it, she felt in her pocket, and wasn't even that surprised that there was a hole at the side. She'd put the key there, and when she'd shifted the wrong way trying to carry the bags, the key must have fallen out. That was why it hadn't been in her pocket.

Harper inserted the key into the lock, and turned the doorknob. She lugged her suitcases in the house, barely able to shut the screen door behind her. "I can't believe they would do this to me. Sending me to Su_bur_bia, of all places in the world! Brilliant!" She deposited her bags in the living room and looked around the place. There was a second floor, of course, but the house was actually pretty small. Curses. At least she had it all to herself. There was nobody to share it with. She perked up a little at that thought.

Still. She sighed, walking into the obviously non-stocked kitchen. There was nothing in here – no food, clearly. They hadn't known when the place would be bought, apparently, so they didn't leave any food. "Man." She placed a hand over her stomach, pouting. "And

just around lunchtime, too! Man, my _luck_ lately!"

She checked to make sure the water was actually running here, and she felt her luck changing just a little. At least she didn't have to make a call to the plumber and fritter away her trust fund money.

Trust fund. Right. She made a face and hopped up onto the kitchen counter, twirling a strand of her light auburn hair. Not two weeks earlier, her family had decided something. Whereas Harper's twin brother Dan was going places, heading off to college and preparing to enter into the Carruthers family business – bee-keeping, of all ridiculous things her family could have been involved in – Harper showed no promise. She had barely graduated high school, maintaining a 2.9 GPA and managing to draw in all her efforts and pull off a 3.0 by the end of the year. She hadn't graduated with honors, of course, and she really had no plans for college. So, her parents finally made a heavy decision. Even though Harper had been bore a few minutes before Dan had been, and she was technically the "heiress", as corny as that sounded, they decided not to go through with that aforementioned plan. They had disowned Harper and put Dan in her position to take over their father's company. And then, to make her have a fun time and "forget" about it, they sent her out here. Ten thousand dollars in a trust fund, a new run-down shack in the suburbs of California, and crushed dreams. Sure, she never wanted to run an apiary – she wasn't at all sure _what_ she wanted to do, actually – but it was better than living in the middle of white trash, rumors, lies, and the freaks that came out at night.

The place was pretty much furnished besides food. There was a couch and a chair in the living room, as well as a coffee table – as for TV, though, she would obviously have to buy her own. "_Duuuuuuude_," she moaned, as she thought of all the other things she'd have to buy for her house. Food, TV, a bed, new paint or wallpaper (she wasn't sure which she wanted), new paint for the _outside_ of the house, a stereo system (she did love her music), and not to mention she'd have to find a college or something. Or a job. If this was where she'd be living from now on, she had to find something – or some_one_, she thought with a mischievous giggle – to occupy her time. She couldn't just resign herself to living the same boring existence that all these other people did. They gossiped, for one thing – she hated gossip. If you were going to say something about a person, you should say it to their face and get the beating you deserved. Or, you could just keep your big mouth shut and not spread rumors that could really hurt somebody. Herself, she usually chose the latter option. And for another thing, their houses were pretty much all the same – two stories, some freakishly gaudy pastel color, with a garage and two cars in the driveway. She could also imagine that all the women talked like Rochelle: "I do not need this, my man got _two_ jobs!" Then they'd quit that job and go back to using their cars for shopping and the like while their husbands worked two jobs – supporting the family more than the average guy.

Psh. What a load of bull. She really hated people, especially the people here. Well, she didn't know any of them yet, obviously – but she was fairly sure she wouldn't like any of them. Or, if she did, only a select few.

She wandered out of the kitchen and decided that now would be the perfect time to go buy a car.

Though, she didn't know what for – you could _walk_ and see the whole city.


	2. Chapter 2

"And here, we have a lovely model, as you see, Miss Carruthers, and I do think you'll find it to your liking."

Harper blinked, disrupting her "I-so-totally-just-woke-up" look, as she stared at the high-energy car salesman. More directly, she was staring at what was so obviously _not_ his hair. Did he think she couldn't tell that it was a toupee? Really. For one thing, it didn't match his eyebrows. His eyebrows were black, and the toupee was brown. A dark brown, she'd give him that, but it wasn't black. She was somewhat torn between continuing with the car shopping, nodding faux-politely and answering, "Mmm-hmm" without opening her mouth – or just ripping the thing off her head and laughing her own head off. It would certainly be the highlight of her day so far, making a grown bald man cry. Or at the very least, he'd refuse to sell her the car, chasing her off his property while shaking his fist angrily and yelling, "_You rotten kid_!" as she ran for her life. Everyone in this town was fake with a capital F. Why couldn't people just accept aging, and allow themselves to age without using some tacky product like a toupee? Freaks. This town was full of freaks. Well, what _she_ thought were freaks, at least. Freaks in this town were all the stuck-up jerks who didn't give a damn about if what they said stomped all over other people's feelings.

Harper swept her hair out of her face, sighing lightly. She really did need to get it cut – it was way too long, and it got in her way all the time. She wanted it a little wavier, too, so it wasn't constantly slithering into her face where she didn't want it to be. She adjusted her sunglasses on top of her head and glanced inside the car. The seats' upholstery wasn't leather, but it looked pretty soft. She didn't like leather seats, anyway – they always made a kind of farting noise when you sat down on them. Like someone had planted a whoopee cushion and wasn't even around when their prank went off. She pointed a finger – nail panted dark purple, of course, almost matching the black on her toenails – inside. "Mind if I sit behind the wheel for a minute, Mr. H.? Take a little test drive, see how it feels? You know, before I agree to buy it."

"Oh – oh, of course! Sure." He pulled a key out of his pocket and handed it over to her. "Here you go. B-Be careful, though…"

"Oh, I'm not going to actually drive it. I just wanted to get it running, see what kind of a set-up it is." She smiled with false sweetness and opened the door of the car. She rolled her eyes at the not-so-startling lack of chivalry the guy possessed. She hadn't expected anyone in this town to have anything remotely like courtesy, of course. Just confirmed her suspicions. She climbed into the front seat of the car and leaned down to start the car. She inserted the key into the ignition and turned it, letting the engine roar to life. She grinned – she like the sound of this one. "Ooh, I like the feel of _that_." The truth was, she was attracted to power. She didn't know why – there was just something about power that got her insides all warm and revved up. Speaking of revving, she was bouncing in her seat as the engine vibrated with all its strength. She slid her fingers around the steering wheel, to find that it was covered with the same fabric as the interior seats. Soft and slightly fuzzy, a tan color, and it felt great both under her fingers and against the bare skin of her midriff exposed by her tank top. "Oh, yeah, this is pretty nice, here. Nice feel, lots of power – ooh, and look at these _fan_tastic mirrors," she gushed, attempting to sound like a sickeningly gooey Valley Girl. She leaned over and moved the side view mirror just a little bit. All of a sudden, something caught her eye in the glass.

Reflected in the side mirror was a huge old castle. It looked Gothic in design, with spiraling towers and spectacular, sweeping tresses. The spires of the palace were sharp – sharp enough to skewer one of these town idiots on, she thought with a dark inward chuckle. _If, you know,_ she said to herself with a repressed giggle, _it ever came to that. Which, judging by the way their personalities and mine will probably clash… may be quite likely._ It was a grand, amazing old place. She found the color scheme rather cliché, but still, breathtaking all the same. Why? The entire castle was the same color – black. But not an ordinary black. The onyx color of a blazing magical fire, never overwhelming its fire-pit, but never shriveling and burning itself out, either. Simply stunning. It looked like something you'd see in a fairytale – like a Beauty and the Beast kind of thing. She had never really been a sucker for fairytales, but that one was always her absolute favorite. She loved it to this day. She may _not_ have been a sucker for _fairytales_, but she _was_ a sucker for _romance_ and _true love_. She did believe it could be found in the most unexpected places. And right now, that castle was as close to unexpected as she was probably going to get in this backwards town.

Harper turned herself around in the car, practically spinning to stare at the place instead of its reflection. "Wow." After pushing her sunglasses up into her hair – they'd almost fallen down _again_ – she looked at the car dealer guy, Mr. H. – Hershey-Something-Or-Other. She jerked her thumb back at the castle, cocking her head as well. "Who lives up on that mountain – you know?"

The guy got slightly pale all of a sudden. "Oh, well… n-nobody lives up there, Miss Carruthers. It's been abandoned for years, as far as I've been told, young lady."

"Interesting." She still could paint the perfect picture of the castle in her mind's eye. Still the most attractive thing she'd seen in this town so far today. _Let's see if I can make this day more productive._ "You know anything else about it? Who lived there last? Hmm? C'mon, I'm into the weird."

"W-Well… I'm not supposed to say anything…"

"Oh. What harm could it do? I'm nineteen. Nobody would believe me, anyway."

"Uh… well, it happened a long time ago… I'm not sure how it would be relevant. But, um… well, someone used to live there." He held up his first two fingers and made movements like he was cutting something. "A man with… scissors for hands."

"Scissors?" Now there was a science-experiment-gone-wrong just waiting to be explained.

"Yes. As I understand, he was brought down into the town long ago by a woman by the name of Peg Boggs. Fell for their daughter Kim, went on some rampage around town. Fled back up there, had this fight with Kim's boyfriend Jim… and they killed each other."

"So… he's not up there anymore?"

"Nope. I still wouldn't go, though. Place is haunted by his ghost, I swear to you with God as my witness. Creepy as hell up there."

"Hmm." Harper shook her head. Pity he was gone. Maybe it would have been good excitement, meeting a man with scissors for hands. Would have given life a lot more danger, that was for sure. And she was willing to bet anything that man had lots of power.

Mr. Hershey-Or-Something's eyes widened. "Oh, no, little missy. I see that look in your eyes."

"Don't you worry about me. I'm a master of the arcane, sir."

"Oh, Miss Carruthers! Please, really! Don't you go up there! You're new here, you're young – you have so much to live for. You do not want to go up there and get killed by whatever ghost thing is still up there."

Harper gave him a look. "I'll buy the car."

Mr. Hershey blinked at her. "Uh, well… it's $3000. If you drive it out, Ill even give you the name of an insurance company here in town."

"Feh." That would mean she'd b spending almost one-third of her trust fun on a _car_ that she really didn't even need. She would get a job later, sure, but… "2800, that's as high as I'm going."

"Miss Carruthers, this car is—"

"You want me outta here or not, bub?"

Mr. Hershey looked at her, fidgeting nervously, and decided it was better than her staying and scaring everybody off with talk of wanting to go check out the creepy mansion. "F-Fine, $2800, then."

Harper grinned, flipping her shades down over her green eyes. Was this gonna be fun as hell. "Thanks, dude."


	3. Chapter 3

Harper stepped out of her new silvery-blue car and shut the door, shaking out her russet hair. "Did the wind ruin my do or what?" she muttered, sliding her shades up into her hair again. "Wow!"

The old mansion looked even more beautiful up close. The black got darker and more magnificent, and the spires looked even more hauntingly dangerous. There was a huge wooden door with no knocker, but an old-fashioned bar system – the kind where you lifted the bar up, and you were in. It looked like it hadn't been used in ages.

She stretched out a little, and wondered what it would look like _really_ up close. If that was what she could see from here – "Imagine how much more totally awesome it would look if I was actually inside!" she cried out happily, clapping. Then she looked down at her feet and remembered she was wearing one-inch heels with straps around her ankles. She looked back up at the path to the mansion, which was all stone steps, and some of them were jagged. She sighed, pouting. "This is gonna be one heck of a walk." She would have to be careful not to sprain her ankle on any of those steps. "Well," she resolved, dusting off her shorts, "I'm not gonna get up there by just standing here!"

She started up the rocky stairs, trying to be careful in her heels. It was extremely hard, as she barely had any balance on heels to begin with. Any hint of her already miniscule grace disappeared when she put on high heels – or any kind of shoe with a raised heel, really. She wasn't ballerina material to start with. Her heel suddenly caught on a loose stone, and down she went, tumbling to the next one. She scraped her knee fairly badly, and cut up her palms. "Oh, _owwwwww_!" She scrambled to her feet and jiggled her leg, shaking her hands out. "Ow! Mother – _dang it_!" Her hands weren't bleeding, but they were tingly, like rug burn. Her knee, on the other hand, was bleeding a little. There wasn't too much blood, but it was enough to warrant her to wipe it off. She dabbed her fingers at it, sighing deeply as the tingling barely faded away. She rubbed her fingers together, wiping them on the side of her black shorts. It wouldn't show – and maybe there were some bandages up here or something. If not, that would have to wait till she got to the drugstore. It wasn't that bad of a cut, after all. It didn't need immediate attention.

She continued her trek up the steps, undaunted by a little blood. She managed not to trip again, being even more careful. She arrived at the gates, finally, where she inspected them and found that there wasn't even a lock. She easily pulled one side opened and then, she was granted access to this place.

Harper walked in, and found it surprisingly easier to walk on the grass than on the stone. The moment she stepped inside the parameters of this castle, she was awed. All the beautiful topiary around the garden! They were all so lovely, and there were sculptures of everything. Birds, people, other animals, even a heart. And in the middle of a garden, there was a giant hand fashioned from a hedge. Its fingers were turned upward to the sky, and it was as if it were welcoming her. But why a hand, though, of all things? "Wow," she breathed, spinning around and trying to see everything at once. It was all so amazing, stupendous… and well-kept. There were no stray leaves or twigs. That meant… was someone living here? Or was it just a groundskeeper who was doing this? If it was a groundskeeper, she or he surely must be some kind of an artist.

But if someone was living here…

She wandered up to the door and gently lifted the bar up. It was a simple, almost medieval lock system. Anyone could get in, though it was always polite to knock. But she didn't knock, because, as the car dealer man had told her, there was no one here. That didn't stop the goosebumps on her arms and legs, though. She pushed the door opened and walked inside. It was so dark, and the door almost seemed to swing shut behind her of its own accord. She glanced back, and realized it was rather cold in here. She walked deeper inside. She turned to look at the door again, and her ears were suddenly assaulted by a small, odd sound.

_Snip-snip… snip, snip, snip…_

She blinked and felt around for a light switch. How could anyone possibly see _anything_ in here? "Honestly…" she huffed, trying to find a wall to at least sit down or something. "How a person could have once lived in this is beyond me, and…" Out of nowhere, she bumped into something. But it wasn't a wall – it didn't feel like that. It felt… warm. Like a… person, and her head detected a male chest

behind it.

"Hello."

Harper screamed in a manner that could be described as "bloody murder", and very nearly ran from the house.

She fled to the whole other side of this dark room, practically screeching out, "_Stranger danger_!", and could see the shadow of a person where she had previously been. Her chest heaved with her deep breathing as she tried to look him over. It appeared he was dressed all in leather, down to boots, and he was holding blades. No, no… scissors. He was holding a pair of giant scissors and some knives in each hand. He took one step forward, and she saw very clearly that he wasn't _holding_ them in his hands. They _were _his hands. She forced herself not to shriek again as she just gawked at the scissors. She blinked twice and decided to direct her attention to something much less… scary about him. His hair was jet black, and messy, hanging over his face and jutting upward and outward in every direction. She couldn't make out any details about his face – not even what color his eyes were. He didn't seem very threatening at all, aside from the scissor-hands he had.

Finally, he spoke again. "I'm sorry…"

Her breathing slowed down a little, and she swallowed. "I… I… th-that's okay. W-Would you… step out in the light… so I can see you a little better?"

He took a few steps forward, and now she could see him a bit more clearly. His face was terribly pale, and his lips were a bluish-black hue – as if he'd been kissed by death itself. His eyes were dark – not deep enough to call black, but not light enough to call brown. He looked incredibly frightened. His face was marred with scars, some on his cheeks, some on his forehead, nose, and even two splitting his lips. He was staring at her with a mix of both curiosity and fear. "I'm… s-sorry for scaring you."

She shook her head to clear her mind. "No, no, it's just…" She clasped her hands together at her chest. "I mean… I-I wasn't expecting anyone to be up here… I was told nobody lived here. I thought this place was abandoned. I-I'm sorry for… intruding up here. I just…" She looked around. "Are – Are you all by yourself?

Are you all alone up here?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"What about…" She shrugged. "Don't you… have parents? A mom, or… a dad?"

His eyes flickered to the wrought-iron staircase leading to the upstairs of the house. "My father… never woke up."

"Are…" She wasn't sure how to approach the subject of the giant scissors attached to his arms. He was undoubtedly self-conscious about it… mentioning it would only make him sadder, wouldn't it? She pointed a wary finger at the blades. "… Are those your hands?"

"Yes." The scissors snipped together in what Harper would have described as a nervous manner. "I… I scared you with them."

"No! No, no… not at all! Psh! Why…" She twirled a strand of her hair, her own nervous habit. "Why would you think that? I was just… startled by the fact that you were here. I didn't expect anyone… uh, so…" She let out a breath, feeling utterly stupid in front of him. "… What, uh, happened to your hands, anyway?"

"I'm not finished," he answered, holding out both of his hands.

"Ah, God!" She threw her own hands up. "Please! P=Put them down! Just – please!"

He did, looking proud of himself. "I knew you were scared of them."

She blew out, rolling her eyes. He'd been testing her! What a clever little man. "Oh, forget it. So… all alone up here, huh?"

"Yes." His voice, she noticed, was quiet and child-like, higher than most men's, but not so much that it could be mistaken for a woman's.

"Boy… do I know what that's like." She rubbed her arms. "Like you don't belong… cast out." She glanced out the window, and was pleased that she couldn't see much of the town from up here. "They just…" She sighed in a frustrated manner. "Throw you away when they find something better to play with."

She stiffened when one of his blades came not two inches from her cheek. "Are you okay?"

"Ah!" She stepped away. "I just… I feel like nobody wants me. Like everyone just wants me to leave so I won't be in their way. You

know?"

"Oh, I don't want you to leave." He put his hand down. "I'd like it if you stayed." She could see the corners of his mouth twitching upward, as if he wanted to smile, but wasn't confident about it. "I like company… but I don't get much of it up here."

"Oh… well…" She felt as if he'd just trapped her. She couldn't leave him now. He looked and sounded so lonely. But what if he did turn out to be a loon? What if old Mr. Hershey-Or-Whoever was right? She shook those thoughts away. Wasn't it better to expect the best of people? _And then disappoint yourself,_ she sighed inwardly. _It's probably best the expect the worst of people and be pleasantly surprised._ But this boy seemed so… so innocent and harmless. She didn't think he really wanted to hurt her – or anybody. He didn't look like he could kill an insect with those blades of his. She nodded lightly. "O… Okay. I guess I could… stay for a little while. Not… not _too_ long, though, okay? I promised my mom I'd call her as soon as I got settled in."

He smiled just a little. "Would you like to sit down? There are chairs in the other room…"

She actually found it a bit sweet that he was so shy. "Oh, sure. I mean, these heels!" She gestured to her feet. "I'm not very good at walking in them, and they hurt. I mean, they _look_ nice, don't they?"

"Oh, yes, very nice. I love the color."

"Yeah – but I have _five_ toes, not one big pointy one! I'd love to sit down."

He snipped his fingers again, and climbed onto the first step. He hesitantly held out his hand to her, not too close, and moved his head upward. "Come with me, then, please."

He was polite as anything – she had to give him that.


	4. Chapter 4

Harper had to grip the handrail very tightly to make her way upstairs. She wobbled a few times. The boy had reached out to steady her once, but then he seemed to remember about his hands, and drew back. He looked almost regretful. She tried even harder to keep her balance, because she didn't want to make him feel bad about himself. He didn't really seem all that bad, save for his... blade-hands.

At last, though, they reached the second story. The man led her into a room which was fairly near the top of the staircase. "W-Would you...?" he questioned timidly, gesturing to the closed door. "Because..."

"Scissor-hands. Gotcha." She turned the doorknob for him, and he pushed the door open with his elbow. "I've never used this room... most of the other doors are open. I can't open them, and the Inventor always kept them open for me. I can't close them, either..." He cleared his throat and, with one finger, pointed to the cushion-chairs and table in the middle of the room. "Please, sit down. Make yourself at home."

"Oh, thank you." She went to sit down, and found that it wasn't as high as she had expected. "Whoa!" Once she regained her bearings, she glanced up at him and grinned apprehensively through her bangs. "Uh, yeah. Be careful - it's a _long_ way down."

His mouth twitched again, as if he were trying to smile. He sat down with no problems, unlike her. Well, it was apparent who the graceful, talented one in the room was. He kept his hands on the table, so she kept hers folded in her lap. "Could I get you anything?"

"Oh, how sweet. Um... no thanks."

"So... what's your name?"

"Oh! How rude of me! I didn't introduce myself. I'm Harper Carruthers, former heiress of Carruthers Honey Productions. You know - before my twin brother upstaged me. But enough about that. Tell me about you."

It was as if he'd heard nothing but her name. "Harper." This time, he could smile a bit. "That's a very pretty name."

"Oh, thank you. Or, perhaps you should thank my parents for naming me, ha-ha! So, then, what's _your_ name? You have a name, don't you?"

"I'm Edward."

"Edward." She smiled at him. "I like that name. It sounds so Victorian.

Or like _Twilight_. But that's alright, I like both."

"Thank you." He looked at her knee, and he instantly looked frantic with worry. "Are you okay? What happened there?"

"Oh... oh! This? I slipped on the way up here and cut myself on the steps. I'm okay, Edward."

"A-Are you sure? It looks like it's still... bleeding..."

She glanced down. "Oh, no - I think it's dried. It just _looks_ like it's bleeding. I'm fine, don't worry." She blinked. "Uh, so... how do you do, Edward?" She reached out, drew her hand back a bit, then lightly took one blade between her thumb and index finger, shaking it up and down. She felt so stupid, with his eyes locked on her, watching her every move. She could practically feel the heat radiating off her cheeks.

When she looked up, she found Edward staring at her, confusion shining in his dark eyes. "... How do I do what, Harper?"

She felt like laughing, but she bit it back. She didn't want him to be offended - he felt that he was asking a completely genuine, serious question. "Never mind. I meant, how are you?"

He shrugged. "Fine. And you?"

She blinked, giving him an odd look. "Uh... okay, I guess." She looked at the window, and jerked her thumb at it. "That garden out there... did you make all that? With...?"

"My hands," he replied, nodding. "Yes, I did."

"Oh, it's very beautiful. I almost forgot to come in here, I was so taken away by the scenery."

"Thank you."

Harper drummed on the table for a moment. "Uh, so..." She felt like she had to keep talking. The silence was uncomfortable for her, and it felt like he was just looking at her, never taking his eyes away. For that matter, she felt bad about looking at _him_. It felt to her like she was staring at his hands every time she looked at him, and she didn't want to stare at them. She didn't want to make him feel bad, which was what might happen if she looked at them too long. "What would you like to talk about, Edward?"

He shrugged again. "What would _you_ like to talk about? You're my guest, after all. It would be rude for me to go on about whatever I liked and didn't ask my guest what she would like to talk about."

"Oh, no, Edward! I don't mind one bit, actually. I've run out of things to talk about."

He looked down at his hands for a moment, then she could hear him swallow. "So... do you actually play the harp?"

She blinked. What on Earth... "What are you talking abou - oh." She could have just taken Edward's hands right there and just smacked herself silly with them. "Because of my name? Oh, no, no. I don't play the harp. In fact, I probably wouldn't be good at it. I do play the guitar a little, though."

"A guitar? What's that?"

"Well... it's like an instrument that you hold..." She pretended like she was playing, and wiggled her fingers in an admittedly gnarly air guitar performance, and she almost expected to hear him laugh. "And you strum the strings with your fingers, like this. As soon as I get a guitar here... I never actually had one of my own. I always just used my instructor's. I'm not even sure if I remember how to play that much. I never was very good at it."

"Oh, I couldn't imagine that. I'd think you'd be very good."

"Hmm. Well, that's very kind of you to say, Edward." She looked at him again, but for once, she wasn't looking at his hands. She was looking at his face. Where on Earth had all those scars come from? She reached over, and he drew back, looking scared. She knit her eyebrows together in curiosity. Was _he_ afraid... of _her_? "Oh, no... don't worry, Edward, I'm - I'm not going to hurt you." He seemed to relax, and she fingered lightly over the marks on his cheeks. They were rough, but... all it seemed like to her was just a slightly raised part of his skin. Her fingers moved down, and she traced over the two scars on his lips. "Doesn't this hurt?"

"Not anymore," he replied softly. "Those haven't hurt in a while."

"But still, how did you get all these?"

He shook his head. "They were all accidents. I mean, with my hands-" As he said that, he held up his hand as an example, and inadvertently sliced into the skin right below his eye.

Harper managed to yank her hand back just in time to avoid being cut by his fingers. "Oh, my Lord!" He didn't seem at all fazed by the fact that he'd just cut his face, but she was freaking out. "Good Lord, _Edward_!" She was looking anxiously around the room, searching for anything to stop the bleeding before it got serious. "E-Edward! What am I supposed to...?"

He haltingly pointed a finger over at the other table. "Tissues... over there."

She rushed over, pulling a tissue out, then decided to just take the box with her. She hurried back over to Edward, dropping to her knees by his side. "Oh, look at you, you've hurt yourself!" She dabbed at the cut, trying to clean him up. She wondered why on the face of the Earth he wasn't more concerned about it. Did this sort of thing happen often? Did he cut himself a lot, even by accident? She suddenly got locked on his eyes, and slid the tissue down his face, spreading the crimson river down his pallid skin. "Oh." She got closer, examining the shining obsidian orbs. They were so lovely and deep, like pools of the richest dark chocolate. "You... You have the most beautiful eyes, Edward. Has anyone ever told you that before?"

He shook his head. "No. Nobody has... ever mentioned it."

She smiled shakily at him, using a fresh tissue to wipe the rest of the blood away. "My goodness, Edward! You're just about as clumsy as I am, and that's not a good thing!" She tossed the garbage at the trash can in the corner of the room, but she missed. "Darn. I'll get that later." She decided to move back to her own seat across from him. "Does that... sort of thing happen to you a lot, Edward?"

He nodded. "Yes. That's... what all these are from. I... suppose I had to show you somehow. Perfect example there, I guess."

"Oh, Edward!" Her eyes widened. "Don't tell me you did this on purpose?"

"Oh, of course not. I never... mean to hurt myself." His scissor-hands snipped nervously again a few times. "It just... happens. It doesn't really hurt anymore."

"Oh, Edward..." She couldn't think of anything else to say after that. She was at a complete loss. What must his life be like, all alone up here? With nobody to talk to, always injuring himself on accident and with no one to take care of him...

After a few minutes of silence, Edward finally spoke up. "I've decided what I want to talk about."

She nodded. "Okay, then. Fire away."

"Are you new in the town?"

"Yes. In fact, I just moved in today."

"Where did you used to live?"

"Oh, um, I used to live in New York City. It's one of the biggest places in the entire world. Oh, and walking through Fifth Avenue during Christmas, when all the lights are up - oh, it's so beautiful. Like walking through the stars. And Broadway - I loved going to the theater. It was all so well-produced and... live performances were amazing."

"Do you... miss it?"

"Well... yeah, kind of. You know, a little bit. It was where I grew up. I'll always have a little piece of it with me."

Edward gave her a small smile. "That sounds like poetry."

"Oh, thanks. You know, I used to write poetry. But it wasn't very good."

"Would you read some to me? I love poetry, especially if it's funny."

"Oh, do you?"

"Oh, yes - like limericks. Father read those to me all the time, I can remember... the one about the old man from the cape, who made his clothes out of tissue paper!"

"Oh, that's a funny one. Well... I'll tell you what, I'll go through my stuff later, and see if I can find any old ones. And, if I can't - I'll write one up, just for you!"

"I'd like that."

"You flatter me, Edward." A glance over at the window informed Harper that it was getting to be nighttime. "Oh, dear..." She stood up. "I'm so sorry, Edward - it's getting late. I have to go and call my mother."

His face fell when she said that. "Oh... do you really have to leave, Harper?"

"Oh, I'm afraid so, Edward. I'm sorry, but... but, hey! I'll tell you what, I'll come back tomorrow. I mean, you know - earlier. More time together. And I might even have a guitar."

He perked up. "Really? You'll come back?"

"Oh, yes, of course. It's nice up here. Nobody bothers you. I like that."

"I like that, too."

"Well, um..." She walked over toward the door. "It was very nice to meet you, Edward."

"O-Oh!" He jumped up immediately. "Would you like me to... walk you out, Harper?"

"How sweet. Thank you, that would be nice."

She walked down the stairs in front of Edward, and almost tripped one time. She felt Edward's scissor-hands just catch the back of her shirt, setting her straight. She looked back and gave him a kind smile. "Thank you, Edward. I almost took a spill, there!"

He said nothing, but smiled back, just barely - but a smile, all the same.

They reached the front door, and Harper pulled the door open, stepping out onto the first stone stair. "Oh, wow." She looked back at her new friend, her lips curving upward. "Look at that gorgeous sunset, Edward. Isn't it just the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?"

When she looked back at him, he was staring at her with those big eyes, sporting the shyest smile. "Not... the _most_ beautiful."

She reached over and lightly patted his wrist. "Well... I'll be off now, Edward. I'll see you tomorrow, I guess. Bye." She looked back. "Oh, and Edward? You seem like a very kind and sweet person. Good-bye." With that, she slowly started down the stony steps, which she decided to dub the Suicide Stairs.

Edward watched her walk down, just to make sure she didn't fall and hurt herself again.


	5. Chapter 5

_She leaned in, breathing shallowly. "What are you so afraid of? Are you afraid of me?"_

_He looked at her sadly with those lovely coal-black eyes of his. "Of course I am. I'm afraid of **hurting** you."_

_She reached up, and traced over his lips. The scars didn't seem very rough; they were smooth, even. "You won't hurt me. I know you won't. You're a good person."_

"_I wish I could believe that as easily as you do. I can't believe that I won't hurt you... even by accident."_

"_I know you'll be careful. You wouldn't hurt me on purpose, and I'd always forgive you if it was on accident. It isn't your fault - for God's sakes, you can't help the way you are. Accept yourself."_

"_Mmm..." He leaned forward, lips parted slightly. "I... I will... try..."_

Suddenly, Harper jolted awake. She shook her head and groaned. "Oh, God... dream. Why was I dreaming..." She blinked. "Hey. I was dreaming about Edward. Ain't that the weirdest thing..." She pursed her lips and glanced at her mirror. "... Why was I dreaming about Edward?" She lifted the covers off herself, twirling her hair. "Of all things, I mean. It had to be _him_! Couldn't it have been, like, a sandwich or something?" She blew a breath out, wiggling her toes. Maybe she'd look for a job today, before she went back to see Edward. Or - maybe she could get that guitar! Yeah, she'd see if they had a guitar store anywhere around. She wanted to get a really cool one - a purple body, with silver flames and a red neck. Maybe she could persuade somebody to custom-paint a design of scissors on the guitar. Then she could compose something for Edward, and play it for him on her tricked-out scissors guitar-! She suddenly blinked, trying to wake herself up. "Whoa, there, big girl Harps," she told herself, getting up and stretching, hearing and feeling something in her back crack. "Let's not get carried away with this. Remember what happened when you got carried away with the goldfish? 'Suck it up, Harper - it's a stinkin' fish,' he says, as he flushes Sealine Dion's lifeless carcass down the toilet. 'Get a life,' he says, as he drops the lid," she grumbled as she worked her way over to the mirror.

When she saw her reflection, she started, yelping. She looked back to make sure it was really her, and raised an eyebrow. She was fairly sure _her_ hair was messier than Edward's - if that was even remotely possible, for God's sake. "We have got some _serious_ work to do, my friend," she commented, brandishing her brush. "Prepare to meet your maker, Bedhead of Doom! And your maker is..." She whipped out the purple aerosol can. "Aussie Deluxe Detangling Hairspray! Bwahahaha, you're _finished_, you knotty-slash-_naughty_ little buggers!"

As soon as she was done rassling her hair, she picked out her outfit for the day. She put on a soft pink V-neck shirt over a white T-shirt, and then picked out a pair of flamboyantly pink jeans. They were gaudy, but they were _her_ kind of gaudy; not the boring type of gaudy found in Suburbia. No, her flaring so-called "hot pants" made a fashion statement, setting her apart from others. And they were a great conversation starter, besides that. She also completed the look by clasping a cross necklace with a ruby in the middle around her neck.

She walked out to her car, and gave a glance up at that big, beautiful house on the mountain where her new friend lived. She considered going up and visiting him for breakfast, but she decided not to. After all... if he was anything like _she_ was in the morning... hoo, boy, it wouldn't be pretty at all, especially with those scissors of his.

As she began her car, she remembered the tussle with her hair not an hour earlier. She wondered if Edward would be too horribly offended if she asked him to cut her hair.

Off she drove, down the road. As this was a convertible car, the wind was whipping through her long hair, and she sighed, shaking her head, but she didn't do a thing about it. There were worse things than messy hair, after all. She went right by the high school, and decided to stop by the grocery store. She might get some valuable information about music stores - not to mention, she'd get food. She could make a nice lunch for herself and Edward, and take it up to the mansion to share with him. A gift for their first real day together - perfect! She could hardly wait for it to be lunchtime so she could go visit him. She also wanted to see how he made those topiaries. It would be amazing to just watch him work, watch him create one of them. She hoped he wouldn't be too upset by that request.

At last, she arrived at the supermarket. She parked her car, and walked inside, grabbing the nearest available shopping cart. She wasn't quite sure what to make for lunch, but she soon decided. She could just keep it simple and everything - sandwiches, some potato salad. She licked her lips as she thought of the tasty potato salad recipe her mother had taught her how to make. "Oh, Edward would just love that," she muttered to herself, picking up a jar of mayonnaise and checking the expiration date. "Oh, this'll work for the sandwiches, too - I can make turkey, cheese, and tomato. And if he wants mayonnaise, I'll have it with me. This is going to be great." She chuckled to herself, as she remembered what her mother always said: "The quickest way to a man's heart is through his dick - but when that fails, go for the stomach!" And she certainly wasn't going to be attempting anything with _anybody's_ dick, least of all Edward's. That would just be rude and disgusting. She got a carton of eggs, a bag of potatoes, some onions, celery, and carrots, and headed off to the deli section for the sliced turkey. She didn't feel like making her kitchen hot and getting all sweaty cooking today. Cold food was good, anyway - it wouldn't burn anybody's mouth like hot turkey would. She would have to make her father's recipe for turkey and gravy heaped over mashed potatoes for Edward sometime, though, with her family's special, mouth-watering honey bread - it was a well-kept secret in the Carruthers' honey dynasty, or so her father called it that.

Finally, she was ready for the check-out. The lady at her register was a blonde thing, but she wasn't perky. She looked absolutely bored with the world. In fact, if Harper hadn't tapped on the counter, she wasn't even sure the girl (whose nametag read "Maria") would have known she was there. She wasn't paying attention to anything but the insides of her eyelids. As she began ringing up Harper's items, the girl, Maria, glanced up at her. "Hey, you the one who bought old man Hergrav's Porsche?"

So that had been the guy's name - Hergrav. Not Hershey. Oh, well, couldn't be helped now. "Yeah. Harper Carruthers."

"You mean, like, as in Carruthers' Honey? Man, that stuff is good."

"Uh, thanks. It's actually my brother Dan who's taking over the company, but I still have contact with my family."

"My fam is always tryin' to make shit hard for me - all the time, I swear to you." She fluffed her hair. "So... you go up to that mountain - hill... thing?"

Harper gave her a look. "How did you know about that?"

"Hergrav was real upset about it. He told practically everybody in town

that there was some crazy new girl who wanted to go see Scissorhands."

"Scissorhands."

"That's what everybody used to call the guy. Well, except for Jim, who called him Razor Blades."

Harper frowned. Where had she heard that name before - Jim? "Well, yeah, I went up there. I didn't find much, though."

"The place isn't haunted? You didn't see Scissorhands's ghost or anything?"

"Well, the closest I got to a ghost was an old sheet on one of the chairs. Sorry to disappoint you, Maria."

"Too bad." She shook her hair out. "My grandma, Joyce, used to tell me a bunch of stories about him. I'd give my boobs to actually _see_ the guy."

Okay, that sounded gross. But maybe she could find a friend in this girl, if she really did want to meet Edward. The only thing she would love more than being Edward's friend would be giving him another friend besides herself. Maria actually didn't seem all that bad, once you got past her completely ennuyé attitude. She'd have to think about this, though. After all, it seemed like Edward was afraid to go outside - there had to be some reason for it. Something must have happened - well, in all honesty, Mr. Hergrav had given her his version of it, that he'd fallen in love with some girl and went on a rampage and killed the girl's boyfriend. But she suspected that wasn't really what had happened. She wanted to get Edward's side of the story. She handed over her thirty dollars to Maria and got back a dollar-fifty-six change. "Thanks. So, hey, I need some info. Is there a music store in town? Like, one that sells guitars and stuff?"

"Ooh." Maria handed Harper her bags. "I think the nearest one is in Burbank. Owned by, uh... Kim Redding and her daughter-in-law."

"That's about four hours from here. Hmm. Thanks a lot, Maria. See you around."

"Alright. Have a nice day." She winked. "I'm supposed to say that, but I don't really give a damn how people's days go."

"Okay, then. Bye." Harper hurried to her car, and set her bags in the backseat.

She would have to think long and hard about everything.


	6. Chapter 6

"_Everybody was kung-fu fighting - HA_!_ Those kicks were fast as lightning - HUH_!_ In fact, it was a little bit frightening - WAH_!_ But they fought with expert timing - HOO-HA_!_ Oh-oh-oh-oh_! _Sing it, girl - sexy kung-fu fighter... let me take you higher..._"

Harper swirled and twisted around her kitchen, happily belting out a song that she could likely be blackmailed with. She was glad she'd gotten the baby carrots, because they were so much easier to slice up. She'd already chopped the onions and celery, as well as the eggs. She had also done the mayonnaise and mustard, and quickly finished the carrots. She dumped them into the bowl with the other ingredients. All that was left was the potatoes. After that, she could make the sandwiches, put tinfoil over everything, and grab two cans of Pepsi, and she was out to go see Edward. All she had left to do was dice up the potatoes and mix it all up in the salad. Add some salt, pepper, and her mother's secret ingredients - oregano and paprika, babeh! - and that was good to go. Perfecta, as her Italian grandfather would probably say.

Beginning to chop the potatoes, she noticed that one of her favorite songs was coming on. "Oh, yeah, baby!" She began to sing, dancing along to it, as well. "_Well, you're a real tough cookie with a long history of breakin' little hearts like the one in me... well, that's okay - let's see how you do it... put up your dukes, let's get down to it_! _Hit me with ya best shot_! _Come on an' hit me with ya best shot_! _Hit me with ya best shot - fire away_!"

All of a sudden, she mistook the back of her hand for a potato, and ran the knife over it. She shrieked, the knife clattering to the floor. Grasping her wrist, she hurried over to the sink. "Ouch! Oh, that hurts so bad! Damn it, damn it, damn it!" She let cold water run over her hand, and tried to breathe deeply. Small amounts of blood, she could take; but not a lot of it. She opened a cupboard, where some Band-Aids were - she had put them in the kitchen for situations just like this, because she, like her mother, was accident-prone. She was especially bad around knives, usually in the kitchen, because she had gotten her mother's short attention span and became very distracted very easily.

She stuck one to her hand and resumed cutting the potatoes, humming happily along to Pat Benatar and trying to control her "amazing power of dance", as she called it. Managing not to hurt herself again, she finished the salad and quickly made the sandwiches. She didn't want Edward to get too lonely waiting for her. After all - suppose she had told him she'd be back, and then she didn't come? Edward would be crushed, and depressed beyond belief. Not that he probably would've expected anything more. But was going to show him she wasn't like everybody else. Sure, he scared her a little bit - but he wasn't dangerous at all! "Why, he couldn't hurt me on purpose if I asked him to," she reminded herself as she blanketed the first sandwich in plastic wrap. "He's not capable of hurting anybody." She pouted, thinking of how alone and afraid he must be. "Oh, poor Edward. That poor thing, all by his lonesome up in that big old castle. I don't know how he's managed it all these years - I'd go freakin' stir-crazy."

This just drove her to work faster. She finished making three more sandwiches in record time and packed everything - the big plastic Tupperware bowl of potato salad, the shrink-wrapped sandwiches, and the two lukewarm cans of Pepsi, plus some plates, forks, and napkins - into a paper bag. She then happily set off to the big mansion. _I'm coming, Edward!_ she giggled in her mind. _Never despair, Harper Carruthers is always there! Boy... boy, am I stupid. I can't rhyme._

It was about a ten-minute drive from her place to Edward's house. She arrived relatively unscathed. She began the long journey up, making sure not to trip like she had yesterday. Of course, now she was carrying a big bag of food, so it wasn't like it would be any easier. She made it up without falling, though, which she counted as a good thing. She carefully pushed the door open and walked inside. She wore flats today, so she wouldn't be as clumsy as she'd been yesterday. "Edward," she called. "Edward, are you in here? I brought you a surprise!"

Only slightly alarming her, he stepped forward from the shadows. "H-Harper?"

She smiled, waving at him. "Good afternoon, Edward! How are you today?"

"Fine... thank you." He took a few steps closer, until he was just a little farther than three feet from her. "You... came back." His voice was soft and almost... shocked.

"Of course I did, silly. Did you think I wasn't going to?"

His fingers snipped nervously. "Well... I..." She swore she could see the lightest tinge of pink on his cheeks, as he looked down at his feet sheepishly. "I certainly wasn't... expecting it."

"Well, you're gonna get a lotta unexpected things from me." She started up the stairs. "I wore flats today, so I won't trip as much. Well, I mean, I _hope_ I won't. Come on!" She waved him up. "Let's go to that room you showed me yesterday." She gave him an exasperated look. "You didn't close the door, did you, Edward?"

He held up his hands. "I can't... remember? I think I... told you yesterday."

"Oh. Uh, right. You'll have to put up with that, I forget things a _lot_. Well, come on, Edward! I have a surprise."

He started up the stairs after her. "Is it the guitar?"

"Ha... 'fraid not, sorry." She skipped up, and was happily at the top of the steps before her friend. "You're a slowpoke, Edward! Come on, hurry up!"

"I-I'm sorry - I can't... I'm trying..."

She blinked. "Oops." She realized how stupid she'd been. He couldn't hold on to the rails, so he had to go slowly - to keep from losing his balance. "Oh, I'm sorry, Edward... I didn't mean it like that. I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking."

He looked up at her, and gave her a tiny smile. "That's okay."

"No, it's not." She reached out, taking his wrist and helping him the rest of the way up. She smiled mentally; it was cute how whenever she offered help, he just accepted without saying anything. Like he _already_ knew she was a stubborn bitch. "I gotta be more sensitive about this. I gotta think before I talk. I'm sorry. Now, come on - you're gonna love this. I brought lunch."

"Lunch?" he repeated, following her, now that she had let go of him.

"Yeah - food!" She walked in and sat down in her seat, being careful this time. "Okay, now, you sit down, I'll get everything ready." She began to spread out the food, arranging plates and forks, setting the napkins in the middle of the table, placing a soda can by each plate. "I hope you're hungry!"

Edward sat down, offering a tentative, "... Yes?"

She grinned. "Good!" She opened the lid of the potato salad and took out a spoon, kneeling and digging into the stuff. "Let me dish it out, okay? I mean, not that I think you couldn't do it, but-"

"It'd just be faster if you did it," he finished, glancing down.

"Yup, you could definitely put it that way." She placed a couple of scoops onto each of their plates, and then put the two sandwiches on. "I think I got everything!"

Edward reached over, and poked one finger into the top of her can, opening it.

"Oh!" She giggled as some of the soda sprayed her. "Oh, thank you, Edward! That was certainly much easier than fiddling with that stupid ring! Thanks."

He nodded, giving a small smile. "You're welcome." He looked down, and his eyes widened when he saw the bandages around her hand. "Oh, Harper, what happened to your hand? Are you alright?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, that. I just cut myself making the salad. I washed it off, did this - it'll be fine in a few days."

"Harper... please... the next time you're going to do this. Please bring everything up here and I'll help you with the cutting. I don't want you hurting yourself like this all the time."

That was probably the sweetest thing Harper had ever heard - especially from the mouth of a guy. "Oh, Edward..."

"It's plain to see that you're clumsy." He smiled at her. "It'd be better if you were clumsy up _here_, where _I_ can help you."

"Hmm. Okay, well, dig in." She picked up her fork and began to eat her potato salad, then took a bite of one sandwich and a gulp of her drink. She looked up and blinked at Edward, who was just staring at her with those bright eyes. He wasn't eating. "Edward, are you okay?" She tapped the side of her head in thought. "Oh, of course! You already ate, didn't you? Listen, you didn't have to say you were hungry just to be polite, I under-"

"No, it's... not that." He clicked his fingers several times, shrugging. "I don't know. I haven't eaten... maybe I'm just not hungry."

She could have kicked herself for that. Of course! He couldn't eat _or_ drink normally because of his hands. And he didn't want to say anything about it because he didn't want to hurt her feelings after she'd made all this. "Oh no, I'm so sorry, Edward. I seriously wasn't thinking about this." She tapped her cheek, wondering what she was going to do. She couldn't just sit there and eat while he didn't. That would make her feel awful. "Hmm, how about... no, no, that won't work... um... I think you can eat the salad with your hands - and maybe... I could tear this up..." She carefully separated the two sandwiches in halves, then fourths. "Do you think you could pick those up with your hands, too?"

He nodded, and cautiously picked one of the fourths up, and looked at her, as if he weren't sure he was doing it correctly. "Is this right?"

"Yes, that's perfect! Good." She sat down on the floor next to him, smiling and brushing her hair back. "Now, next time, I'll bring straws for you - but I don't have any this time. So you just tell me when you want some of your drink, and I'll do the best I can, okay?"

He nodded. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

"It's no problem. Now let's eat, huh?" She moved her plate over to the side of the table and finished her sandwich. She was just returning to her potato salad when she caught a glimpse of Edward trying to eat. He had a potato from the salad skewered on one of his fingers, but the end of the blade was poking out quite a ways. He was raising it to his mouth, ready to take a bite.

"Edward! No, no, that's not safe!" Carefully, she took the blade, holding it very delicately between her two forefingers. "My God! You almost gave me a heart attack!" With her own fork, she slid the potato off. "The point was sticking out pretty far. You could have cut your mouth, Edward. And then where would we be?"

He looked down again, blushing slightly. "I'm sorry, Harper. I didn't mean to..."

"Now, no reason to be sorry." She adjusted herself, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "I was just worried about you, that's all. Speaking of that, actually..." She fingered the cut just below his eye, that had happened by accident yesterday. "Looks like it's healing pretty nicely. Try to be careful about that, okay? I don't wanna see a bunch more nicks on your face, Edward. Pay attention to stuff, and think about what you're going to do _before_ you do it."

He nodded. "I'll try, Harper."

"Good! Okay, now, here." She held the fork with the potato in front of his mouth. "I'll feed you this one, but after that, I want you to try on your own and not leave part of the blade sticking out to cut yourself, okay?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"Alright." She slid the food into his mouth. She felt him bite down, and pulled the fork out. She looked at him carefully, blinking. "Do you like it?"

He gave her a smile, showing the potato, and nodded. "It's delicious," he said through the food.

Harper just started cracking up. When Edward looked at her, and gave her that innocent little smile, talking with his mouth full... she forgot all about what had happened to her that she got sent here. In fact, she almost felt happy that her parents had sent her here. If they hadn't, she never would have met Edward, and he was so... delightfully awkward. She liked that about him. She loved teaching people how to do things and seeing them progress, their faces lighting up with joy when they did it the way she'd shown them.

When Edward looked at her like that, the shy smile occupying his lips, his dark eyes wide and sweet as a child's, something in her simply clicked. It was a good thing that she was here. It felt... right, somehow.


	7. Chapter 7

Harper returned to Edward's home the next day, and she had to say that her legs were getting stronger. This was actually keeping her in shape, going up to the mansion every day. With luck, she wouldn't need to go out of her house and jog. She hated seeing her neighbors, which was why she was always so reluctant to wake up; she had to go check the mail and deal with the way they looked at her.

Today, though, she hadn't gotten much sleep the previous night. She was thinking about Maria, the granddaughter of Joyce - well, whoever that was. She didn't know if she should take Maria to see Edward or not. He liked his privacy, and he was just accepting her presence alone. He had barely gotten used to her; still worrying that she wasn't going to show up the next day, even when she promised she would. He was self-conscious about his hands; that she could understand. But constant reassurance that she would always keep coming should have eased his mind a little.

She had been up all night debating about whether to tell Maria that Edward was alive. On the one hand, she'd be making Maria happy, and that might get her favor with the townspeople. It might also make Edward another friend, which would definitely make him happy. That was really all she wanted - for Edward to be happy. On the other hand, Maria might have just been putting on a facade. If she took her up to see Edward, the blonde might lash out at him and/or tell the others about him, and then they'd form an angry mob or something like that. And if that happened, Edward would blame Harper. He wouldn't want to be her friend anymore - and he was the only friend she had in this boring town. She wanted to stay friends with Edward.

Since she was up all night, she was tired. She had slight lines under her eyes, and all she did with her hair was toss it into a bun, not even caring that it was still frizzy. She wasn't paying attention too vividly. She'd walked up to the gate, and she could just barely see Edward standing at the door, waving, waiting for her. She was happy. He was actually expecting her this time. She waved back as she started up the steps. Unfortunately, since she was paying so little attention, this caused her to stumble. She fell down, collapsing on the stone steps.

"Harper!" she heard Edward cry out. In an instant, he was by her side, kneeling down, lightly touching her hair. He was trying not to hurt her, and her hair was the only part of her he could touch without cutting her. It was clear that he was wondering how to help her now, because he couldn't touch her and he was helplessly frightened. "Harper, are you alright? What happened?"

"Mmmph." Harper glanced up, clutching two fistfuls of grass and looking blearily at her pale, scissor-handed friend. "Edward? What're you doing?" She yawned. "You're s'posed to be waitin' for me up there. You ain't supposed to... come out... people are gonna... gonna see you..." She fought to keep her eyes open.

"Oh, Harper... oh, can you get up?" He clicked his hands frantically, nervous beyond all belief. "Can you walk? Are you okay? Did you break anything?"

"No, I'm fine, Edward." She got up, only to discover that the cut on her knee had been scratched back open, her arm was scraped (but thankfully hadn't broken the skin), and her cheek was burning. "Edward... is my face bleeding?"

"Y-Yes." He held out his arm for her to take. "Let me take you inside, Harper. W-We'll get you cleaned up... and you seem so tired. You can sleep in my bed for a little while, if you'd like to."

"Bed..." Grabbing Edward's arm, she snuggled into him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Pillow... sleep... good..."

She felt Edward laugh, an anxious little chuckle escaping from his ghost-kissed lips. "I'm not your pillow, Harper, and we have to get you... clean before you can go to sleep."

Edward took her inside and upstairs, but not to the same room they'd gone to the previous two times. He took her into what looked like a bathroom. The medicine cabinet had no mirror - it was just a shelf of cosmetics and things. He carefully picked up a roll of bandages, using both hands. He cut a piece off using his right hand and, after a fierce battle with the water faucet knob, offered a quiet, "Thank you" when Harper reached over and turned it for him, then turned it off when he asked her to. He was very meticulous, holding the cloth as lightly as possible while still gripping it well enough to press it gently against her leg and face so that he cleaned off all the blood. "Am I hurting you, Harper?"

"Ngh... it stings a little. But that's not you - it's the water. It always stings when it's applied to something that's bleeding."

"I'm sorry it hurts. But if I don't... it might get infected, right?"

"Yeah, that's right." She just sat there, trying to cooperate, as Edward slowly cleaned her off and bandaged her leg. He couldn't do anything about her face, really. He did put some cream on it, though - squeezing it out onto one of his blades and very, very carefully spreading it over the laceration.

He drew back after that. "I didn't cut you, did I?"

"Nope." She leaned over, and tapped him on the nose, giving him a reassuring smile. "You did a very good job, Edward. That was impressive."

He blushed, looking down. "Well... thank you."

"Nope, thank _you_." She twirled a stray piece of his hair. "Honestly, Edward, if I lived in this place and you weren't - what would I do without you? You're always looking out for me."

"I-I've barely known you three days."

"But you still take care of me like we've known each other since we were _born_."

"I want you to be safe, Harper." There was a twinkle of something in his mysterious eyes - something she couldn't identify. She couldn't tell what it was that he was looking at her with. "I don't... want you to get hurt. I don't want you to get hurt and run away like... like I'm some kind of... monster. I mean... I know I am, of course... but sometimes... it's nice to at least be treated human. Once in a while. And you treat me that way. It's nice to be treated that way a little bit every single day."

Even though she was beyond tired, Harper's heart melted completely when he said that. "Oh, Edward..." She reached out and placed her hand on top of his head, fingering through his tangled raven locks. "Oh, Edward." She felt as if she were going to cry. "Oh, Edward." That was all she could say as she drew this man closer to her, resting her face in between where his neck and shoulder met. She rubbed his back, wetting his skin with her mascara-tinted tears. "Oh, my, Edward, you poor, poor thing." She felt her body convulsing with more sobs. "You are most certainly _not_ a monster. Now, I may have just met you, of course, but... I can at least tell that about you."

They both just sat there for the longest time. One couldn't truly say whether Edward was in Harper's arms, or whether Harper was in Edward's arms. Finally, Edward's soft voice broke the silence. "Do you really... really think so, Harper?"

He didn't receive an answer, however. He looked down, and suddenly became aware of another sound permeating the quiet. That sound was Harper's medium-loud snoring.

She was fast asleep, right there in his arms. She had fallen asleep in _his_ arms, in _his_ hands. In the hands that she knew could kill her if their owner so much as moved the wrong way on accident.

"... What am I going to do with you, Harper?" he sighed softly.


	8. Chapter 8

"Mmmm." Harper felt herself waking up, but she wasn't in the cool and aromatic feel of a sheet and/or a bed. Instead, her head was pressed against a warm surface, which felt like a person, and she could smell what she thought to be leather.

Still a little groggy, she groaned and moved around a little bit. She looked up, and she saw that Edward was holding her - very, very carefully. However, his eyes were closed, and his breathing was quite slow, so she became amused at the idea that he'd fallen asleep with her. She gradually slid out from his grasp, cautiously moving his hands and maneuvering around the sharp shears of metal. She gently shook his shoulder, tapping him. "Edward," she whispered. "Edward, wake up. Are you okay?"

Edward shook his head and moved his hands, so she stepped back a little to avoid getting cut. "Harper?" he mumbled sleepily, reaching up to rub his eyes.

"Ah! Edward, no!" She grabbed his wrist. "Don't! Be careful. I know it's hard to really wake up without doing that and getting all the sleep gunk out of your eyes - but you could really hurt yourself. Let me get it." She tore off a piece of toilet paper and wiped his eyes. "There, is that better? Can you see a little better now?"

"Yes. Thank you."

She let out a breath, sitting down on the edge of the bath tub. "Edward, why didn't you take me to the bed? You could've laid down, too. But instead you stayed here and fell asleep holding me on the uncomfortable toilet. Why?"

He shrugged. "Well, I didn't even dare to move, Harper. I could have hurt you. I certainly couldn't carry you... not with these hands. I would have cut you up for sure."

"Awww." Harper smiled. It seemed like every time he spoke, he said something that made her heart cry. "You are the sweetest thing, Edward. That was very considerate. But I'm awake now."

He nodded. "Yes. Would you like to talk now?"

"I don't know what... I don't know, Edward. I mean, really... I don't want to fall asleep again and leave you alone."

"Well... at least you'll still _be_ here, right? I wouldn't really be alone, if you're just asleep."

"Oh..." She reached out, and ran her fingers through his unruly hair, then smiled. "You really need a haircut, Edward. I'd think with those hands of yours, you'd do something about this hair!"

He gave her a smile. "I don't mind it this way. I actually like it."

"You like it in your eyes?" She carefully moved part of his bangs. "I like to see your eyes. You hide them too much. Your eyes are so pretty."

"Thank you."

Harper stood up, then stumbled, Edward just barely catching her with his arm. "Oh... sorry about that. I'm a little wobbly when I first wake up."

"No problem. How are your wounds? Do you feel better?"

"Oh, yeah. I feel great. Why don't we go into the other room and sit down for a little while?"

Standing up, he nodded and followed her. "Okay."

"How long was I asleep, by the way?" she asked, walking out and sliding into the other room.

"Oh... about an hour, I think. I didn't really pay attention to that. I just looked at you."

There he went again. On the first day, he'd kept staring at her, and he always stared at her. And now, when she'd been asleep, he was staring at her. It was like he was trying to figure out who she reminded him of or something. She sat down in the dark purple chair, which had apparently been named hers, and Edward sat in the blue one; his. "So... how was today before I got here? I mean, what did you do?"

"Oh..." His fingers snipped, like he couldn't figure out what to say. "The usual, I suppose. I did some gardening, and I tried to hold a paintbrush so I could do something more."

"Oh, wonderful! Could you actually hold it?"

"For about five seconds... before it fell to the floor."

"Well, that's better than nothing. I'm so happy to see you trying new things, Edward. See? You can do this stuff. You just have to put your back into it - give it a little extra effort. You can do anything you want to."

He looked down, blushing a little bit. "Mmm..." He glanced back up at her, shifting his position. "So, Harper... did you find your new guitar yet? Could you find a music store?"

She blinked. Oh, right. "Yeah, well..." She giggled. "There's no music store in town that sells instruments, apparently. The closest one that sells stuff like that is in Burbank, which is four hours each way, up and back, by car." She grinned. "Hey! Crazy idea - why don't you come with me? We could pick out one together. I bet we could even have it custom-designed any way we like."

At this point, he shook his head violently. "No... no, I never want to go back there. Never going back down."

Harper furrowed her brow, lightly reaching over and placing her hand very carefully over his. "Why not, Edward? What's the matter? You can tell me. I'm your friend, remember? I mean... if you don't want to go, I'll go by myself. I don't have to take you with me. I just figured you'd get lonely if I was gone for eight hours one day..." She swished some of her hair back, never taking her eyes off his. "And you... don't have to tell me. But I'd like it if you did. It would make me feel good."

"Not ready."

Harper sighed. There was no serious conversing with him when he reverted back into child mode. "Alright, Edward. You don't want to go with me. I get it. I'll go alone. And, I mean, who knows? Burbank's a pretty dangerous city. I'll take a gun - that way, if there's trouble, I can fight off whoever's trying to sneak a peek at my panties."

That got Edward going, his cheeks tinting pink a little. "Nobody would do that! Not to you!"

"You'd be surprised at the many people who would. But I have my daddy's gun, and I got a license for it. If I fire it at a rapist, it's technically counted as self-defense, and I might only have to spend _one_ night in jail."

"... Jail?" His face fell, and he stood up swiftly, looking out the window at the town below. "Jail. Nobody will take you to jail."

"If I fire off that gun, and actually manage to shoot somebody, I'll spend the night in a cell."

Edward looked back at her, an unpleasant expression adorning his features. It was a mix of something like pity and anger. He just looked at her for a few minutes, but finally he spoke. "... I'll think about it."

She grinned. "Yay!"

"I didn't say yes for sure."

"But you _implied_ it!" She clapped, beaming. "Road trip! Road trip!" she chanted. "Come on, with me, Edward! Road trip, road trip, road trip! We're goin' on a road trip!"

Edward sighed, sitting back down. "Road trip."

"Road trip, babeh!" She began dancing happily. "_Viva Las Vegas_!"


End file.
